


A  Home of Their Own

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-08
Updated: 2007-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: Nothing tests a relationship more than buying a house together





	A  Home of Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for [](http://callie-828.livejournal.com/profile)[**callie_828**](http://callie-828.livejournal.com/) for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/bestmates_xmas/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/bestmates_xmas/)**bestmates_xmas** fic exchange. Warning for fluff. Many, many thanks to D. for the beta!  


* * *

"It's been over a year now, Harry. I think it's time to move out."

Ron's words hit Harry like a Bludger to the head. He had not expected to have this conversation, especially when things were going so well for both of them. He was stunned speechless for a moment.

"Was it… did your mum say something? I thought she liked having me here," he stammered.

Shaking his head, Ron said, "No, you know you're welcome for as long as you want to stay. It's… I don't know if I can explain it in a way that makes any sense, but hear me out. After you killed You-Know—"

"Ron…"

"After you killed _Voldemort_ , I understood why you wanted to come back here. We're your family, and Mum considers you her dark-haired son. Plus it's convenient to get to work and the rent is cheap. But I hate lying to my mum and dad. I hate the sneaking around."

"We aren't lying," denied Harry. "We're just failing to divulge things they're happier not knowing."

"It's all the same in my book. Pretending that I'm not spending every night in your bed and having to wait until they're out of the room before kissing you… I'm just tired of it. I want to wake up next to you in the morning and stay for as long as I feel like it. I want to bugger you so hard it makes you scream, and take long showers together and have sex on the kitchen table if we want."

Harry blinked. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," Ron answered, blushing. "I mean, maybe not all the time, but I'd like to have the option of doing it. As long as we live at the Burrow, we can't do those things without risking the wrath of Mum."

"Oh."

"But there's another reason," continued Ron. "As long as you stay here, sheltered from the Wizarding world and hiding from your fame, you just seem like more of a mystery to the press, and it makes you all that more interesting. If they saw you living in a flat and going about your business like every other twenty-year-old wizard, you'd be old news soon."

Harry glared at him skeptically. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Ron wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him close. As he gazed into green eyes, he said, "You always said that you wished you could be a 'normal' person. Hiding in my parents' house when we've both got respectable jobs isn't what 'normal' blokes our age do. We should be hanging out at the pubs, playing Quidditch on weekends…"

"Meeting girls," said Harry with a snort.

"Well, maybe not that, but you know what I mean. Let's get out of here and live a little bit."

"I'll think about it. But there's no way we're moving into a flat. I don't want all those people nosing around trying to see what we're getting up to. At least if we get a house, we can put wards up in the garden to keep reporters away."

"All right," said Ron. "But while you're thinking, think about this, too." He bent his neck and captured Harry's lips with his own, quickly making him breathless and needy.

Ron's sucking on his lower lip turned Harry's legs to jelly, and Harry whimpered when he stopped suddenly at the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Perhaps Ron did have a valid point, thought Harry.

]-------[

In the end, what convinced Harry to agree to move out wasn't worries about Arthur and Molly catching them having sex or Ron's (misguided) belief that Harry would become less interesting to the media if he was out in public more. It was Hermione's observation that Ron seemed unhappy about something, but he would only say vaguely that it had to do with him and Harry. She wasted no time in interrogating Harry to see what he was going to do to "fix" the problem.

"You two haven't been quarreling, have you?" she asked him at lunch one day.

After all these years of knowing Hermione, he was still surprised when she donned her 'bossy know-it-all' hat. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, we have not been quarrelling. We're getting along just fine, thanks."

"Well Ron as much as told me that he was unhappy and it was because of you. I just thought—"

"Ron said that?"

Hermione sighed, her eyebrows furrowed. "He didn't deny being unhappy when I asked him, and said that it had something to do with the two of you. He hasn't been himself for a few weeks – he's not even laughing at Seamus's jokes during staff meetings."

Harry stumbled over his words, still taken aback that Ron was so upset about their living arrangements. "He wants…he asked, well no, he told me… He says it's time to move out of the Burrow. And I don't really want to. I mean, I'm comfortable there, and the Weasleys like having us around, and—"

"And you love having Molly doting over you like a mother," interrupted Hermione. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione held up a hand to quiet him. "There's nothing wrong with that, Harry. You never had that growing up, and it's fun for you and Molly Weasley is wonderful. But I think maybe Ron wants to do a bit of the doting himself."

Harry snorted. "Are we talking about the same Ron Weasley?"

Hermione smiled. "Give him a little more credit that I ever did. You should see his face light up when he talks about you. It's obvious he's smitten with you. I'm surprised I never saw it when we were in school."

"That's because he was busy being smitten with you," said Harry, grinning. "It broke his heart when you called it quits, Hermione. It's a good thing I was there to pick up the pieces." He shook his head, trying to keep a straight face. "You turned him gay."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Harry, I—" She looked up and saw him grinning ear to ear. "Stop it, Harry. You know darn well that it was you," she said with a wink.

Knowing that she was going to tell him anyway, Harry asked, "So what do you think about Ron and me moving out of the Burrow?"

"Honestly? I'd say it's about time. I'm sure Ron has his own convoluted reasoning for wanting to move out, but I think it will be good for you to get out from under Molly Weasley's watchful eye. Go out, have fun – like other wizards our age do. Take a shot at living a normal life for a change. You might find you like it."

Harry wasn't sure he should tell her that Ron's 'convoluted' thinking was nearly the same as hers, so he nodded noncommittally and promptly changed the subject.

]-------[

He should have known that it wouldn't go smoothly when it took them three tries to agree on an estate agent. Harry thought the first one they visited was attractive, yet severely lacking in the intelligence department. The next one was a no-nonsense sort of wizard who didn’t seem particularly impressed by the name 'Harry Potter,' but Ron said he was reminded too much of Professor McGonagall and he was afraid that if he expressed an unfavorable opinion about a house, the agent would give him lines.

Fortunately, Hermione found them someone who was personable and competent, and they knew from the moment they met her that she'd be excellent to work with. The first thing she did was to sit them down and try to determine what sort of property they were looking for.

"We can go into more detail about your finances once I know your tastes and preferences. Now, are you looking for a wizard or a Muggle house?"

Ron said "Muggle" at the same time Harry said "Wizard." They both glared at each other.

"Muggle houses are so boring," said Harry. "They're all made out of the same materials and have the same dull floor plans. Wizard houses have character."

"Wizard houses are so much trouble," said Ron authoritatively. "A hippogriff can fly by and set off all the wards in the middle of the night, and things have a nasty way of disappearing when you need them and showing up again when you don't. And anyway, my dad says they haven't built any decent wizard houses in years, so most of them have got to be decades, if not centuries old."

"I take it you'd like something more modern," said the estate agent to Ron.

"Of course. Who wouldn't want something new?"

"Me," said Harry. "You forget that I grew up in one of those modern Muggle houses, and it was completely unremarkable. Remember, Ron – they had an electric fireplace instead of a real one. I'd much rather have something older and quirkier, like the Burrow or even Grimmauld Place, if it wasn't so creepy."

The estate agent nodded and made a note. "Well, perhaps we should narrow down our search by size and price. Harry, how much space do you want in your home?"

"I don't think we need very much space," he replied. "A couple of bedrooms and bathrooms, a decent sized lounge and a kitchen big enough for a table and chairs."

"Oh, Harry, I don't think it should be too small. We'll want to have friends over, and maybe have a game room with a pool table, and a separate place for an office, so we don't lose all of our bills and stuff. And a gazebo in the garden. I've always wanted one of those."

"Why not a marble staircase with a fountain at the bottom while we're at it?" muttered Harry sarcastically.

"Yeah! That would be so cool. And a swimming pool." Ron's eyes were lit up, and when Harry glanced at the estate agent, he thought he saw her fight back a snicker.

The agent paused, waiting patiently to see if there would be another outburst. "Well, then, do you have a price range?"

Ron pulled out a piece of parchment from his robe and slid it across the table to the agent. "Hermione looked at my accounts and said what I could afford, so since we're going halves, you can double it."

Harry looked at the number. The figure looked low, and he wondered how Ron thought he was going to get a game room and a garden with a gazebo at that price especially in a Muggle neighborhood.

"We can go higher than that. At least four hundred thousand higher, I'd guess."

The estate agent's jaw dropped and it was a moment before she realized it. "Oh, all right."

"No, it isn't," Ron said. "Harry, I want to own it in equal shares. I don't have another two hundred thousand."

"I know. Your name will be on the title as a 50% owner. But I have an inheritance – two, actually, if you count Sirius's – so I can put in more than half. It's fine."

"No it's not!" huffed Ron.

Harry turned to the agent, who was quite unsuccessful in hiding her sniggering. "We must be a nightmare for you. I'm sorry."

She laughed. "Well, it will certainly be a challenge. But I'm sure we'll find just the right property for you. What is our timeframe? Do you need to vacate your current residence soon?"

Predictably, Ron said "yes" at the same time Harry said "no."

"We'll just start by looking at a few properties. If you can point out what you like and dislike about them as we tour them, it will give me a better idea of your priorities. How does that sound?"

Harry said "brilliant" at the same time Ron said "excellent." They were pleased to have found something they could agree on.

]-------[

"How many was that today?" asked Ron as he flopped onto the couch.

Harry sat down next to him and leaned his head against Ron's shoulder. "Eight. I think that makes twenty-seven houses altogether."

"The flat over Fred and George's shop is starting to look better all the time," Ron moaned. He lifted his shoeless foot to Harry's lap and Harry began to massage it without thinking.

"Is it available?" Harry asked.

"We'd have to kick Fred and George out. But they probably wouldn't mind. They could come live here."

"I just don't know how many more weekends like this I can take. We've got to find something we can agree on soon." Harry pushed Ron to a lying position and pulled Ron's other foot onto his lap.

"I know. It's just that it's a lot of money, and it's our first house – really the first big thing we've ever bought together. I want it to be perfect."

Harry nodded. "Me too. Although I suppose any house with you in it would be perfect."

Ron's eyes snapped open. "Harry Potter – was that you being sappy just now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "See, Ron, this house-hunting has to stop. It's addling my brain."

"I don't know why you like the Burrow so much. It's so old and decrepit, it's practically falling down, there's a ghoul in the attic, the stairs are uneven, and the kitchen was last decorated sometime in the middle of the last century."

"I like it because it's a home, not just a house. People live here. The Dursleys had a nice house, but you never felt at home because one fingerprint on the doorframe would send Aunt Petunia off the deep end."

"So you want a lived-in home, then," said Ron, casually.

"Yeah, I do," nodded Harry. "What about you? What's the single most important thing to you?" He rubbed Ron's arches with his thumbs just the way he loved it.

"Just one? Oh, that's a hard choice. I think I want a place that is brand new, that no one has ever lived in before. You and I can christen it as our very own."

Harry hummed while he finished massaging Ron's feet. The door from the kitchen opened, and he quickly shoved Ron's legs off his lap. Molly Weasley walked in wearing dress robes and her fancy hat.

"Oh, there you are, dears. I've left you some shepherd's pie to heat up for your dinner. Your father is taking me out tonight to celebrate our anniversary."

"Thanks, Mum," said Ron.

Harry caught Ron's eye and smiled. "Yes, thank you. Have a nice time."

They turned to watch the infamous clock on the wall, their eyes glued to it as Molly's and Arthur's hands turned to 'traveling' and then 'out.' As soon as the hands came to a stop, Harry and Ron raced each other up the stairs. Clothing was hastily removed and they jumped into bed in record time.

"God, I've missed this," whispered Ron.

"Remind me again why we should move out," Harry moaned between kisses.

Ron answered by wrapping his hand around Harry's cock and stroking him very slowly. "Do you mean the part where we get to spend hours doing this," Ron said, stopping to lick the side of Harry's neck, "or the part where I make you scream?"

"Fuck, yeah, the screaming part," Harry said, panting. "Want to come screaming your name."

Harry lay on his back as Ron hovered over him. It ought to be illegal, staring at someone with that predatory, sexy expression. He was worried that Ron was going to make him come just by his thoughts alone. Fortunately, Ron had other ideas.

"First I've got to prepare you well – I don't want the screaming to be from pain," said Ron as he summoned the lube with his wand. He continued to caress Harry's cock with one hand while the other slid between his cheeks. Ron was particularly gifted with long fingers that he used well – Harry was moaning his approval in no time.

They hadn't had anal sex very many times considering they had been together for over a year. It was much easier to pretend they were doing something else if they got caught frotting than it would be if one's cock were up the other's arse. But now that they were alone, Ron was taking his sweet time. While he continued to stretch Harry, he tangled his free hand in Harry's hair, tilting his head back so that the tendons in his neck were pulled taut. His mouth sucked on them, tongue darting into and over the hollow spaces and then sucking hard, leaving behind angry red marks. Ron's fingers rubbed Harry's prostate over and over, and Harry was writhing from pure overload of his senses.

"Please," he moaned breathlessly. "Need."

Ron whispered into his ear, "Need what, Harry? Tell me what you need."

"Fuck me," Harry answered pitifully.

Ron smirked. "What's that? I couldn't hear you."

"Fuck me, you bastard," Harry said loudly, taking care to enunciate as best he could.

"Scream it, Harry. I want the ghoul to hear you."

Harry was beyond frustrated. Ron had been keeping constant pressure on Harry's sweet spot while using his free hand to locate the lube and prepare himself.

"Fuck me, Ron! Please!" Harry screamed. "Damn it, do it NOW!"

Ron slammed into Harry as hard as he could, heeding Harry's calls to 'move' almost immediately. Harry continued to shout encouragement, not having any idea what he was saying, but needing to vocalize to keep himself from passing out.

It felt like it took him forever to climax. Harry could feel his balls tighten with every thrust. He could hear Ron's breathing speed up as he, too, neared the edge. Harry jammed his hand between them and wrapped it around his cock. One, two, three… and there it was. As he felt the warmth of Ron inside him, the sparkles around his peripheral vision disappeared and he sank into blackness.

Harry woke with a start, eyes snapping open to see Ron's blue ones gazing at him fondly.

"You all right, mate?" asked Ron quietly. "I think you passed out."

"Did I?" said Harry groggily. "Sorry. Well, no I'm not. Was good."

Ron moved his hips to remind Harry he was still inside. "I've thought of another thing I must have for the house."

"What's that?"

Ron grinned. "Thick walls and Muffling Charms."

Harry didn't have the energy to do anything more than smile. But in his post-coital haze, he promised himself that he'd find them the perfect house. And soon.

]-------[

"Harry, what a pleasant surprise!"

Harry seriously doubted that it was pleasant, given the sheer number of houses he and Ron had forced the estate agent to show them. She continued to be cheerful and professional through every showing, and Harry had to remind himself that she was paid on commission.

He sat down in the chair she offered. "Ron's not with you? Did you want to look at a few more homes without him?"

Shaking his head, Harry said, "We've talked about what's really important to us in a home, and our first two choices are exact opposites. I want something old, with character, and he wants a brand new house with all the modern amenities. I don't suppose anyone is building new houses with character, are they?"

The estate agent frowned, thinking. "By 'character,' you don't just mean old, do you? You seem to have something specific in mind when you say that. But I don't think we've seen it in any of the properties we've visited so far. What does this perfect house you want look like in your mind's eye?"

Harry thought for a moment, keeping his eyes closed to visualize it. He realized that his dream house looked an awful lot like the Burrow. "It's got a large fireplace with a stone hearth," he started. "And there are lots of built-in nooks and crannies to put stuff in. And a bookcase with a secret passage to somewhere – maybe a wine cellar or an office. The woodwork is ornate – oak, I think – and it has runes carved into it." Harry continued describing what he saw in his head, the agent's quill scratching feverishly on the parchment. It was easier to say all of the things he wanted without Ron here, because he knew Ron would object to many of them. But Harry also knew that unless he did a good job of articulating his wish list, he would end up with a compromise that didn't suit either him or Ron.

When he finally finished talking, he looked up to see that he'd gone on for almost half a roll of parchment. She had just asked him to clarify something when they were interrupted by a loud commotion just outside the office door.

A woman's voice boomed, "Mr. Dobson, I'm very sorry but I can't allow you to take up any more of our agents' time. The market no longer wants the type of service you provide. If clients have that much money to spend, they'd rather spend it on more space or land or amenities. You may leave your business card with me and if we get a request for custom charms work, we will contact you."

"I think you're making a big mistake," said Dobson. "What's the point of owning a castle that doesn't _do_ anything. It's magic they want, not just four walls."

Harry and the estate agent stared at each other; could it be this easy? Throwing the door to the office open, Harry said, "Excuse me, Mr. Dobson. Could I have a word?"

]-------[

"What do you think, Ron?" asked the estate agent.

Ron eyed her suspiciously and then looked over at Harry. "I'd say that it's perfect, except that I know Harry hates it, and I want to buy something we both like."

"Don't worry about that, mate. I've got my wish list covered. I just need to make sure that yours is too."

"Well, yeah, of course it is. It's brand new, all the amenities, open floor plan – and a nice spot to build a gazebo next summer if we want. But what do you mean your wish list is covered? I don't see any of the stuff that you liked in those old houses."

Harry laughed. "You'll see. If we put an offer on it today, we can probably sort out all the paperwork within the next few weeks and be able to move in by Christmas."

"Christmas? But that's weeks off yet. Let's move in as soon as we get the title."

"No, we can't," replied Harry. "I'm planning to have a bit of work done to add a few of my own favorite things. They'll need access to the house before we move our stuff in."

"What sort of work?"

"Oh, you know, wards around the outside, some finishing touches. That sort of stuff. Nothing that you won't like, though."

]-------[

Christmas at the Burrow was always a treat, and this year, there was a full house as usual. Charlie was home from Romania with a girlfriend, Ginny was staying the night and Fred and George had arrived, thoroughly exhausted after a very hectic and successful shopping season. Remus and Tonks came for Christmas dinner but didn't stay long afterwards.

Having done their share of cleaning up, Harry stole up behind Ron and whispered, "Do you want to take a walk?"

Ron smiled. "Yeah. It's a bit too crowded in the house at the moment. Be nice to get some air."

Harry found Molly relaxing in front of the Christmas tree with her feet up on the old ottoman. "Fantastic dinner, as usual."

"Thank you, Harry. It's tiring, but I do love the holidays."

"Er, if you don't mind, Ron and I are going to go out for a bit. See if we can work off some of this feast we just ate."

Molly patted his hand. "You go ahead, dear. Have a nice time."

Grabbing their heavy cloaks from the hooks in the back hallway, Harry led the way out to the garden and then turned so that they were out of sight from the house. He took hold of Ron's arm, and Ron immediately drew up against him, leaning in for a kiss.

"Hold that thought for a minute," said Harry, pulling away. "I'm going to take us somewhere more private."

Without waiting to hear whether Ron had any objections, Harry side-along Apparated them to the street in front of their new house. Harry guided Ron up the walk to the front door and ceremoniously handed him a key.

"Home, sweet home," said Harry. "It's not really a Christmas present since you're paying for half, but I thought you might like to see some of the changes I've had made."

Ron was grinning, obviously pleased. As he fitted the key into the lock, he looked up at Harry, questioningly. "This door is different, isn't it? I don't remember it having beveled glass. And – Merlin's beard – look at the carving on it!"

Snickering, Harry said, "Very good! I'm impressed that you caught on so quickly. Yeah, I thought the original door was just a boring slab of painted wood. This one—"

"—Has much more character. It's really nice." Ron pushed it open. The sun was low in the sky, and not much twilight was coming in through the windows. Ron turned on the electric lights, which he found extremely interesting. "What else have you done?"

A satisfied grin crossed Harry's face when he saw Ron's eyes open wide in amazement. "Bloody hell! You've had it completely redecorated!"

"No I haven't," said Harry. "I found an old wizard who specializes in casting custom charms on Muggle houses – you know, to sort of retrofit them with magic – and when I told him my complaint about new houses lacking character, he understood what I wanted better than I did. He set me up with a master woodcarver and a carpenter. Well, come on and see what they've done."

Ron bent down and ran his fingers along the molding. "Is this hand-carved?"

Harry nodded. "Done with magic, of course, but carved out one rune at a time. The runes used are supposedly going to bring us good luck and prosperity."

"As long as they don't bring children…"

Harry laughed. "I already thought of that. I threatened all three of them that if they put any sort of fertility charms on the house, they'd regret having crossed Harry Potter, Order of Merlin First Class and the Chosen One, for the short remainder of their lives."

Harry flitted through the house, showing Ron the secret room, the specialized cubbies for cauldrons and potions ingredients, built-in bookcases and – his favorite amenity – the crystal chandelier. The newly-charmed mirror in the bathroom told Ron he had a nice arse, and Harry had placed old-fashioned pegs in the back hallway for their cloaks, just like the ones at the Burrow. With all of the changes, even Ron had to admit that this felt more like a home that it had when they bought it.

"Did you do anything to the bedrooms? Anything kinky?" said Ron, smirking.

"Nah, I was waiting for you. Let's go have a look."

Ron audibly gasped when he turned on the light. Harry had completely furnished the room with a brand new bedroom set – king-sized bed with two matching side tables, wardrobes, and a long dresser. The bed was already made up with a navy duvet and four fluffy pillows.

"I lied. I did get you a present. Happy Christmas, Ron."

"Bloody hell, Harry. It's fantastic! It's…it's so unfair. You told me we were going to wait until the house was finished before getting each other presents."

"Should I take it back then?" asked Harry, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

"Hell, no. It's wonderful. I'm just saying that I didn't get you anything yet."

Harry closed the space between them and they kissed gently. "It is a rather self-serving gift, though." He kissed Ron again. "And it's not too late to give me what I really want."

Ron smiled. "That would be self-serving, too."

"So it would be fair, then."

"Not quite, but it's a start," said Ron. As he kissed Harry again, he slid his hands beneath Harry's new jumper and slowly pushed it up his back. Separating briefly, he eased the jumper around Harry's glasses and over his head.

They took turns undressing each other, taking their time for once since there would be no interruptions from well-meaning family members. Anticipating this moment, Harry had made up the bed with brand new sheets, and as he and Ron slid naked into it, he felt as if they were doing this for the very first time.

"This feels weird," said Ron.

"I think it feels brilliant," Harry replied. He pressed up closely against Ron and ran his hands down Ron's back until they came to rest on his arse. "Perfect."

Ron kissed him hard. "That's not what I meant. It just feels weird that this is our house that we bought together and we're free to do anything we want to in the privacy of our home. It's so… grown-up."

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Harry said with a smirk. Ron slid his hand between them and wrapped it around Harry's cock. "Ungh, that's good."

After sliding his lips down Harry's neck, Ron nibbled on his collarbone and worked his way across Harry's chest. Harry hissed as Ron tweaked one of his nipples hard, surprised that the pain of it shot a spark of desire to his groin. He responded by arching up against Ron, silently begging for him to continue.

"Anything in particular you want for your Christmas present?" hummed Ron.

"Anything. Everything. Want you."

"I want to bugger you but I don't have any lube."

"In the drawer."

Ron leaned over and opened the drawer of the little table next to the bed. Sure enough, there were several tubes of lubricant. "I love how you thought of everything," he said.

"I've thought of nothing else for weeks. A fucking boy scout, I am."

Ron chuckled as he spread the lube on his fingers. "I've never fucked a boy scout before. Think I can make you pass out again?"

"I doubt it," said Harry. He grimaced as Ron slid a finger inside of him. "But you're more than welcome to try."

There was something liberating about having all the time in the world for sex. Instead of telling Ron to move right away as he usually did, Harry reveled in the feeling of Ron filling him, of them being completely joined in the most intimate fashion. He wanted that feeling to continue forever. And even after Ron began his rhythmic movements, they continued to watch each other, silently communicating that this meant more than simply trying out the new bed.

Harry did not pass out when he came; rather, he called Ron's name breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life until Ron climaxed as well. He felt a surge of emotions rise up from his chest, and it caused him to shiver. Ron wrapped his arms around Harry tighter, thinking him cold.

"I could fall asleep for a hundred years," sighed Ron.

"Better not, though. Your mum will go spare if we don't come home."

Ron turned Harry's head so that he could look him in the eye. "We're moving in here tomorrow. All right?"

"Yeah, sure. We can start packing our stuff first thing tomorrow morning."

]-------[

The Ministry of Magic was closed on Boxing Day, so the next morning, Ron's dad showed them how to magically pack things for moving. Harry had arranged both for Muggle utilities to be hooked up as well as getting their new home attached to the Floo network. This was fortunate, because it was extremely difficult to Apparate while holding a heavy trunk.

They were down to moving their last three boxes, so Arthur grabbed the last one and followed Harry and Ron into the Floo. They hadn't expected him to follow, and Harry only just got out of the way before Arthur plowed into him.

"I thought you might want a hand unpacking," he said, setting down the box and adjusting his glasses. "Plus I was anxious to see the place after the flurry of owls that Harry has been sending me at the office."

Ron looked surprised, but Harry blushed. "I really do appreciate all of your advice," Harry told Arthur. Turning to Ron, he said, "They kept asking me if I wanted certain charms on the house, and I asked your dad's opinion. Good thing, too, or we might have got saddled with blaring trumpets announcing the arrival of any guest by Floo."

Harry gave Arthur a tour while Ron slipped into the bedroom to make up the bed that they'd hastily left the night before. He'd just slipped the lube back into the drawer when Harry and his dad pushed open the door.

"Well, Dad, what do you think of the place?" Ron asked, anxiously bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

"Very nice – very impressive. I think you'll be happy here." Arthur looked around the room. "And this furniture is quite nice, too. Plenty of storage for your things."

Ron blushed as he realized that it was completely unnecessary to have two wardrobes if the room was his alone, but he didn't want to say anything in case his father hadn't noticed. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that "Harry's room" had nothing in it except for a few old boxes – where would he spend the night if not in Ron's bed?

"Listen, boys, before I leave you to your organizing, I want to make sure to thank you," said Arthur, shifting his glance from Ron to Harry and then back again. "I know you two have been, well, _together_ for most of the time you've lived with Molly and me, and neither of us have ever had an awkward situation where we've interrupted you in a private moment. I appreciate your discretion."

"You _knew_ about us and didn't say anything?" gasped Ron. "Does Mum know?"

"We haven't discussed it, but not very much escapes her notice. I haven't said anything before now because I figured it wasn't my place. But since you're taking up residence together, I can see that it's more than a passing fancy."

"We didn't mean to keep secrets," Harry said, "but we thought you'd be happier if we didn't, you know, flaunt it."

"You're probably right," chuckled Arthur. "But I'm just as happy knowing that Harry's still going to be a part of our lives." He headed towards the door. "Ah, listen to me. I'm getting sentimental in my old age. Now, you boys be sure to come around for dinner every now and then, or Molly will take out her frustration on me."

"We will, Dad. Neither of us knows how to cook very well."

As soon as Arthur disappeared through the Floo, Harry and Ron fell into each other's arms.

"Harry, you know what this means?" asked Ron.

"Hmmm."

"We can have sex anytime we want without worrying about interruptions."

Harry looked up at his lover, cocking his head and grinning. "How about now?"

"Just what I was thinking. Come on."

Harry and Ron walked hand-in-hand to the bedroom – their own brand new bedroom – on their way to start their new life together.

 

_end_   



End file.
